She averted her gaze, her fingers trembling as they fumbled with the hem of her shirt. "If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe a word of it."
He crossed his arms, leaning back into the leather chair with a cold, calculated grace. "Try me. I've already sat through enough of your goddamn fairy tales today. Just give it to me straight for once." He leaned in slightly, a dark shadow crossing his face as he muttered under his breath, "Not like it matters. You're fucking dead anyway."
Her heart skipped. "What? What did you just say?"
"Nothing," he snapped, his patience snapping like dry kindling. "Start talking before I lose my mind."
She took a long, shuddering breath. "If I told you the whole thing was a mistake... would you believe me?" She looked deep into his eyes, searching for a flicker of humanity.
He arched a skeptical brow, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "A mistake? You mean like the 'mistake' I'm about to make when I empty a clip into your skull?"
She stared at him, her fear suddenly curdling into a sharp, naive defiance. "You're pathetic. Honestly. All you talk about is killing and blood. Why don't you sit the hell down and relax for a second? You sound like a senile old bastard."
The click of the hammer was the only warning. He lunged forward, pressing the cold steel of the muzzle hard against her forehead. She didn't flinch. Instead, she locked her eyes onto his, refusing to blink. "Coward," she spat, the word dripping with contempt. "Terrifying a woman to feel powerful. Why don't you go find someone your own size, you prick?"
"You call yourself a woman?" he growled, the barrel digging deeper into her skin. "You're a goddamn serial killer in the making."
"I can't believe I'm in this mess because of a stupid fucking dare," she whispered, mostly to herself.
His eyes narrowed. "A dare?"
She went silent, clamping her jaw shut.
In one swift motion, he reached out and grabbed her jaw, his fingers digging into her bone with bruising force. "Speak. Now."
"Get your filthy hands off me, you animal!" she hissed, wrenching herself free. As he pulled back, she glared at him with pure venom. "Now I get why five wives ran the hell away from you. Who could stomach a piece of shit like this? All you know how to do is put your hands on women."
He ground his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to snap. But she didn't care. She sensed blood in the water and she kept tearing.
"Anyway, back to the point," she continued, waving a dismissive hand at the marriage talk like it was some petty annoyance. "The whole 'marriage' and all that bullshit... Look, I was actually a decorator at your last wedding. One of my colleagues dared me to sign where the bride's name should be—mostly because we saw you'd already signed the damn thing beforehand. I never thought those papers would actually reach the civil registry. I mean, sure, I signed it as a joke, but for fuck's sake... who signs a marriage contract before the bride even arrives? What kind of idiot does that?"
She leaned forward, relishing the shock written all over his face.
"Can't you just shut the hell up for once?" he hissed, his voice vibrating with suppressed rage.
"No, I can't. And yeah, a heartless, arrogant prick like you would definitely do something that stupid."
"You've got a big mouth, woman," he growled, leaning in until his breath hit her skin. "You want me to cut that tongue right out of your head?"
"Go to hell! I told you the truth, alright? Are you happy now? Just bring the divorce papers and get this over with—unless you still don't believe me."
A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "Actually, I knew all along. I saw the security footage from the wedding day. I've known from the start."
Her jaw dropped. Her heart did a frantic somersault in her chest. "What? Then... then why did you put me through all this? Why the act?"
He chuckled, a dark, dry sound that sent chills down her spine. "Well, the hunt between the predator and the doe was just too entertaining to stop. Especially those pathetic little fairytales you kept spinning... I quite enjoyed the show."
"So?" She swallowed hard, forcing a tight, nervous smile onto her lips. "So... unlock these goddamn handcuffs. Now. Right now."
The chime of a message on his phone cut through the tension like a blade. He glanced at the screen, and his mocking smirk instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, stony mask.
He strode toward the nightstand, shook out a couple of pills, and shoved them toward her face. "Swallow these and get some sleep. We'll finish this when I'm back."
"What the hell are those? Get that shit away from me!" She clamped her jaw shut, her eyes blazing with defiance.
He didn't argue. He grabbed her face, his thumb digging into her cheek with bruising force to pry her mouth open. He forced the pills and a splash of water inside, but she wasn't having it. With a violent spray, she spat the water and the half-dissolved medication directly into his face.
"You aren't forcing me to do a goddamn thing," she spat.
He wiped the moisture from his skin, his eyes darkening with a murderous glint. Slowly, he reached back into the drawer and pulled out a syringe.
"Hey... what the fuck are you doing now?" Her voice wavered, the bravado flickering for a second.
He lunged. With terrifying ease, he pinned her to the mattress, using his weight to crush any hope of escape. She thrashed beneath him, cursing her lack of a blade; if she had her scalpel, she would have opened his throat right then and there. He jammed the needle into her shoulder with brutal efficiency, plunging the sedative home.
As he pulled back, she lunged forward, sinking her teeth into the side of his neck with everything she had left.
"Agggh! My fu.... neck! Are you a goddamn rabid dog or what?" he roared, stumbling back.
She fought the creeping heaviness in her limbs, glaring at him through narrowing eyes. "That's what you get for touching me. I'm going to kill you for this... I promise."
He slammed the door behind him, making sure the sedative had finally dragged her under, and strode toward the office.
"Enzo, did you get what I asked for?" Luca barked, cracking his knuckles as he walked. "Hey, Enzo—answer me. Why the hell are you staring?"
Enzo stepped closer, wordlessly reaching out to tug down the collar of Luca's shirt just enough to reveal the raw, red mark on his skin. He stared at the bite for a long beat. "Alright, I've processed the fact that you two are technically married, but isn't this shit a little premature? Even for you?"
Luca rubbed his neck, a malicious, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Enzo. "Jealous?"
"I know she bit you to get away, so drop the act," Enzo deadpanned. "You'll be back to being the Vitali family's most eligible bachelor—the 'Bride Hunter'—soon enough."
Luca's grin turned sharp, predatory. "And who said I'm going back to being single? I've already tied the knot."
Enzo stared at him with pure derision. "Great. You finally lost what was left of your goddamn mind, marrying a lunatic even more unhinged than you. Anyway, I think this might change your tune."
"What is it?"
"A criminal record."
"Whose?"
"Your 'lovely' wife back there," Enzo said, tossing a folder onto the desk. "She's got a hell of a rap sheet. Plenty of arrests. I guess that explains why she knows enough about the underworld to spin those fairytales of hers."